Mar 24, 2009


That was a mandala, I start making. Its not like that anymore. I ruin it. This is what happens, I guess, when you lose contact with what you do.

So, now , its time to press the pause button. I want to return there and correct what I spoiled.
There is not a rewind button in real life.

Mar 23, 2009


This is a drawing from my Play-Book. ( have play also with photobucket's tools).

My Play book is were I experement with ideas. I draw, I change colors and usually I destroy the painting , but is a free place and I like it.


Mar 21, 2009


During one of those days, I always remember The Smurfs.

- Is it much further Papa Smurf?
- Not much further my little smurfs.
(After some time )
- Is it much further Papa Smurf?
- Not much further my little smurfs.

Mar 10, 2009

no reply

Where am I ?
What time it is ?
How far is it ?
When I'll get there ?

the traveller asks his GPS device.
He gets no reply.

Mar 7, 2009

flight of stairs

flight of stairs : designed to bridge a large vertical distance
image : mine :)

Mar 5, 2009

the little knife

Once upon a time, in a cutlery tray there was a little knife with a sharp blade. As he grown up, his blade became sharper and sharper. The sharpest knife in the kitchen’s drawers. He could cut every. The wife, living in that kitchen was cutting the bread and it was her favorite knife while preparing the meals. And her husband, that knife was using for the maintenances in the house. That little knife, was the ducky one of the boys too. They were sneaking in the kitchen, taking that knife from the drawer and ran to the tree house to make bows, arrows and other stuffs

Even the cooking knives, those living in that strange wooden box, on the kitchen’s bench liked him. Especially, the chef’s knife who was wise and knew many stories.They were chatting, when they gathered in the dishwasher and eventually they become friends. He admired the Chef's Knife and had learned a lot from him. He regarded him as a teacher, the teacher he always wanted to have. “take care of your blade”, sometimes he was telling him but the little knife couldn’t understand what he was talking about and he was cutting and cutting and everybody was saying “What a sharp knife !!!” , and the knife was cutting more and more.

But after a long time it was more difficult to cut, needed more effort to do his job, and had to try harder and harder. The other knives and spoons and forks in the drawer were telling him. “Your blade is ill. You have to rest it for a while” but the knife couldn’t let down the wife , the husband and the boys. They will be disappointed, he thought and he was trying harder and harder to cut. Till the day the blade couldn’t cut anything. Even a piece of cake ."I can’t cut anymore" , he said to the house wife but she could hear him and forced him to the cut. And his husband when he took to fix some cords, he couldn’t here him too. "I can’t cut" , the knife was telling him but the man was cutting and cutting.

That night, in the kitchens drawer, he retreated in a corner at the cutlery tray and crying about his blade. "I’m not a sharp knife anymore", he said. "People won’t love me. I have nothing to offer", and he started crying and crying and crying.

He was embarrassed for not being not sharp anymore, and sad because he couldn’t be friends with the chef's knife. He won’t love now. Why such a sharp knife want the company of a dull knife like me, he thought. Even if we wanted to talk to him he was trying to avoid the Chef’s knife. But, after some days, they met again in the dishwasher.
- "Where have you been . I lost you" , he said to him
- "Yes, It didn’t happened to see you" , he said and tried to get away from him to not see his wounded blade.
- "Are you well ?", he asked him.
Hesitated for a moment, did not want to know his secret, but the way he looked at him he though he knew, so he decide to tell him what was going on
- "Did you tried to sharpen your blade on your stone? ", the chef’s knife asked
- "No ,which , stone?"
- "There is a stone in the top drawer above yours. Ask her. Maybe she can help you".

So, the little knife, that same evening, when all were asleep, he left the cutlery tray, snuck into the gap between the drawers and climbed to the top floor, to find the stone.

- "Can you help me", he asked her.
The stone, examined briefly his blade and then told him
-"Hmmm, a difficult case. I’ll do my best but don’t expect much. Come next to me and started to sharpen your blade on me".
Immediately, the little knife start grinding. For three evening, he was going upstairs, to the sharpening stone and grinding and grinding and grinding. It was almost dawn and he was tired. --“See you tomorrow” said to the stone.
-“Um, better not”, the stone told him. “I don’t think I can help you more. This is the best you could get”.
the knife tried to say something.
-“You better go now. Good luck” said the stone and went to her bed.

- "Did you went to the stone", asked the chef's knife, the next day when they met in the kitchen’s bench
- "Yes I did. I can cut a little better but not as before. She told me not to go again. It’s pointless"
-"I see. How are you?" he asked

Tear came to his eyes and start crying
-“You know, sometimes, it’s difficult for me too to cut. What I do is trying to find a point which has less resistance and concentrate on that”, he heard the chef’s knife telling him.
-“what do you mean ?”, he asked, but he didn’t manage to hear the answer because the woman took him and put him to the cutlery tray.

In the afternoon, he spread some Merenta for the children, to eat. They were sitting around the kitchen’s table to do their homework. The older boy had an assignment. To make from something unusable something else useful.

«Why do not you make a paperknife», said to the boy his mother, while leafing through a book with ideas.
The knife heard that. “me, useless ...not me”, he thought . But then he remembered the stone’s words and what the chief’s knife told him. “A paperknife, I can do that. I have done it in the past. It was very easy.Perhaps as a paperknife I’ll be useful and alive again".

So, he walked to the edge of the bench. “I’ll just , fall down, make a noise so they will se me and make me a paperknife. Yes this is a good plan” said with joy.
But the vast gap makes he retreat.
- Jump, says the chef's knife which he saw from afar and have understood the plan.
- I can not, I fear
- You can, he says to him

-"But it is too high, it will break, I fear. And if I break they will thrown me away".
- "I am pretty sure that you can manage it.. You may not have understood so far, but it was not only your sharp blade that help you cut, but your power too. You can do it”, says the chief’s knife and smiles to him.

The little knife is looking the Chef’s knife and then the void under his feet. Makes a step forth and then back and the same thing again and again. Then, he looks at the chief’s knife again, takes a deep breath and jumps.

Once upon a time, in a cutlery tray there was a little knife with a sharp blade, who’s blade become dull. He doesn’t live there anymore. He moved. Up there. On the kitchen’s bench. In a case with pens and pencils, near the phone, next to a cube with colourful papers. Paperknife, they call him now and he is happy in his new home.

Note : This story is not finished yet but I post it as a first draft, so bear with me :)

Mar 4, 2009


I thought it was over, I hoped it was over.
But those foggy days, say its back.
That little monster, my stamina’s foe.
A rain of arrows attacks the body
Enormous clouds swallow the mind
Yes, that little monster is here again.

photo : Battery Macro Originally uploaded by frcsyk